


The Greatest of Miracles

by Abboz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Death Fix, Death Defying, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Friendship, Headcanon, Hospital, John Doggett/Monica Reyes Romance/Friendship, Near Death Experiences, Not Really Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Season/Series 11, Romance, Wound Recovery, partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 17:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14140632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abboz/pseuds/Abboz
Summary: Set post-Season 11. After taking down the Cigarette Smoking Man, Mulder & Scully find their friends outside severely injured. Fearing that nothing can be done for them, they get them to hospital & call John Doggett. Whilst they stay with the Assistant Director, Doggett waits faithfully at Reyes' side, desperate for a sign of life in the woman he loves, the partner who he's spent the last decade trying to protect so she could save the world.





	The Greatest of Miracles

A sharp inhale broke the silence, eyes springing wide open but unseeing; the bright lights reflecting off white walls blinding and disorientating. Frantic, she threw her body up, forward, gasping for breath, clutching at nothing in particular.

Then she was still, caught, held in position, her head cradled in someone's palm, their touch warm. She heard her name. “Monica.” A familiar voice soothing her as they lowered her back onto what she now found was soft beneath her.

Monica blinked; her eyes still wouldn’t adjust, all she could make out was the shape of a figure, dark against the bright white and hovering over her. They were still holding her, softer now, their right hand never leaving her cheek, the other resting on her shoulder.

“Wh—” She squinted at them, keeping her gaze on the only thing she could almost see. “What’s going on?”

“You’re in hospital, you’ve been shot, so I need you to take it easy for me, okay?”

“For you?”

He nodded, and she could see he was a man now, one with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair that was greying at the edges. She stared at him, and he stared back, worry etched on all of his ageing features. “I’m really glad you’re awake.”

“Who are you?”

The smile that had started to show on his lips dropped and disappeared completely. She watched his face begin to scrunch up, the agony seeping into his features growing with each millisecond that passed. “Oh God.”

She exhaled, the burst of laughter that accompanied it curling her lips upwards. “John.”

Agent Doggett blew out the air in his lungs, a sob poorly concealed in the breath, the tension leaving his body. “Don’t do that!”

She smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

The man nodded once more, letting the joy welling up within him spread across his lips into a smile. She recognised him, she was happy to see him and whatever challenges might be ahead for her, that was good. “I told you I wouldn’t let you do this alone. You shouldn’t have tried. But you did it, you helped them find William, and oh, I think you’ve finally saved us all.”

“Yeah?” Narrowing her eyes, she kept her gaze on him. “Good.”

He put her confusion down to the time she’d spent unconscious for his own sanity; fretting would not help her, and she had defied what he’d been assured was certain death once before. This would be the same. Only this was not the same, and whilst she was safe with him, she’d taken a bullet to the head and being lucky enough for it to glance off her skull did not guarantee no damage. “I need you to know that I am so proud of you.”

“I know.” She squeezed her eyes shut, lifting her right hand to her bandaged head as she scrunched her face up even more. “My head is killing me.”

Hushing her, Doggett gently wrapped his fingers around hers, drawing her arm away before she could get anywhere near the wound. “Don’t say that. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to even be alive?”

“I just… it really hurts.”

“I know.” He nodded slightly, his voice as soft as he could make it and yet urgent as he soothed her. “I’ll get you some more pain relief. I’m gonna kill that cigarette smoking bastard for this.”

“He’s already been taken care of.”

John looked back to find Mulder stood in the doorway watching them, showing no signs of wanting to step forward. “That monster survived a missile being fired at his face so he could come back to interfere with our lives again. Do you really think a few bullets is going to stop him?”

“I think we can’t worry about that; I think we can’t spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders at every turn. We have to live our lives or he wins, dead or alive.”

Doggett nodded. “That does make a surprising amount of sense.”

A smile crept across his face. “Well it has been known to happen. And anyway, I think Monica needs you right now, so focus on her.”

He turned back to her and watched as, very slightly, she moved her head up and down. “I’m here.” Squeezing her hand, he held her gaze and smiled softly, waiting for her to mirror it. “Mulder, I—”

As he looked over his shoulder, his colleague stepped inside the room, just enough to allow Scully to push a wheelchair through. Without hesitation, Doggett returned his attention to his partner once more, leaning a little closer. “Skinner’s here. Is that okay?”

For a moment she just stared at him, again he wondered just how much she remembered, but only until she spoke. “Yeah.”

So Dana brought the Assistant Director to her free side, grinning over him at her friend. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Thanks. Glad you’re okay.”

The smile Monica sent back was much weaker, the redhead beamed wider anyway, couldn’t help herself, but she was conscious of the other woman’s condition and didn’t want to drain any more of her energy; they could talk later and she was more than happy to return to her partner’s side, welcoming the arm he threw around her. “Thank you for everything.”

She nodded back, shifting her gaze down to the man in the chair.

As Walter Skinner took in the sight of his fellow patient, he waited for the right words to come to him, and when he found none, tried anyway. “Monica, I—”

“You’re alright.”

He started, sat back and, eyes wide, stared some more. “Yes. Never mind me, are you?”

“I don’t know. Head’s pounding, everything hurts, but I’m still here.”

“I’m sorry.” He leant back towards her, urging her to see the regret in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have… it should have been him. I know you tried to stop it, I know it was him; I was desperate and you were in the driver’s seat and I am so sorry for shooting you. I am so very glad that you are alright.”

Seeing the moisture pooling in his eyes, she felt her own start to water too. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I’d have never forgiven myself if—”

“I forgive you. Just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

The smile he tried to offer came out more as a grimace, but it’s meaning wasn’t lost on her. “Thank you.”

“Alright.” Doggett cupped Monica’s face once more, drawing her attention back to him and dabbing at the tears in her eyes. “You need to rest, and that means staying—”

“Calm.”

“Yeah.” He nodded with a smile. “So I think this is enough excitement for now. Let me find someone to look at you, get you that pain relief, and then a little peace.”

She turned her head a little more towards him, gaze drifting downwards for a moment and then flickering back up to meet his. “Thanks.”

John pulled himself from her bedside for the first time in hours, walking round the bed to Skinner’s chair so he could wheel the superior agent out, pausing for just a moment when he saw him place a hand on the bed. “I hope you feel better soon. If there’s anything you need, just ask me.”

“I’ve got John.”

Beaming over at his partner, Agent Doggett began to push Skinner once more, leading the way out of the room. As the door swung shut, he let go of the wheelchair and turned to face Mulder and Scully. “Thank you so much for helping her when you could have so easily just left her there.”

“No we couldn’t.” The redhead shook her head at him. “She’s our friend. We knew what she was doing.”

John had spent every moment they’d sat with him at her bedside talking about her. He’d rambled about how worried he’d been as she worked to bring Spender’s scheme down, how he’d tried to find out what he could to help and made sure to always be one step behind, be her back up should she need it. Only the one time she did, there had been no phone call on the way there and he could not follow. Though Monica had been working tirelessly to assist the pair, she wouldn’t risk direct contact; her intentions had to be kept a secret from them for her actions to come to fruition. If they knew, he would know, she’d told John, and he’d trusted her that it was necessary to protect them all.

The night after the smoker had contacted her, she had sobbed against his chest at the thought of seeming like a villain to the people they cared so much about, not even thinking that it could cost her her life. That was what he’d come to fear the most, not knowing that in calling Scully instead of him, Reyes would incidently save herself.

“She helped us find our son. And kept him out of that man’s reach for a long time. She is not to blame for his actions.”

“I know that.” The man’s brow creased at the thought running through his head. “But it would have been so easy for you not to.”

“Don’t torture yourself with that thought. Monica’s in there, waiting for you, so go and look after her. We’ll take Skinner back, just keep us up to date.”

“I will.” Doggett walked away as he spoke, finding the doctor who had been assigned to her.

After examining her, all the promise the surgeon could give them was that no immediate cause for alarm had presented itself. He was quick to rein in their expectations by pointing out that the exhaustion that so often followed such a wound could be hiding something worse than the headache, something he couldn’t just prescribe pain relief to free her from.

But she seemed like herself, and that was all Doggett could let himself focus on because he had been granted the greatest of miracles for a second time and he couldn’t believe that whatever would let them have that would not let her recover. It felt like something more than sheer willpower had pulled them together and gradually wound itself around them until they were inseparable and holding each other in this realm. He’d struggled to balance his faith in her with the fear that the tether would be snapped, a fear that had felt increasingly less irrational with every move the old man had made. But the tether had held, pulled her back to him and quenched the fears burning within him, he just hoped it could stay that way, that they could finally just be happy until old and grey, they went together.

“What?” Her headache subdued, Reyes took in the sight of him before her, his face scrunched up as he watched her. Faithfully at her bedside once more, he’d been staring with that crease in his brow for far longer than it had taken the pain to fade.

“I’m just really glad you’re alive.” He still wouldn’t take his eyes off her, her lips twitching at the edges under his gaze. “I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t lose you, Monica, I couldn’t live. I need you to take it easy, I need you to rest as much as you can, I need you to get better. I, I need you.”

“Oh, John.” She blew out a breath with the words, long and slow, rationing the energy she still had. “I love you too.”

Leaning forward, he cupped her face and kissed the bridge of her nose as a substitute for her forehead, lips soft against her skin. “You get some sleep, you’re exhausted, and I’ll get you whatever you want for dinner later.”

“I don’t care.” She shook her head. “Just stay here with me.”

“You’ve got it.” He stroked her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Of course. I promise I’ll be right here.”

He dropped his hand to bring it to rest on her stomach just as she found it with her own, the fingertips of her left hand tracing up towards his elbow until they settled firmly against his arm, fingers curling just enough to keep the contact and make him stay. Leaning back in his chair, he watched her close her eyes, watched all the tension fade from her features, and felt her hand begin to withdraw, but not completely, her touch still lingering against his skin as she drifted off. And there he stayed.


End file.
